Salem: Salvation
by forgottenpen
Summary: Anne Hale controls Salem and is set on becoming a queen of Hell. With no one else to fight her or her lover, Samael, The Sentinel must rise from fallen angel to become a hero. He must call on a Witch of Heaven to fight a King of Hell, but when the fallen angel finds himself in love with his human ward, he could risk of not only the fate of Salem, but the world.


_(Author commentary located at end of story. Events of story take place after Season 3 of Salem)_

The angel of death walked the sleepy roads of Salem in silence. Like marching to a funeral, Azrael's veiled face was emotionless as she seemed to float towards the forge, a holy hand guiding her to the place of her brother's death. Her simple black dress covered her from her neck to her ankles, hiding every inch of skin as it moved around her like smoke. Only her lips peeked out from under heavy black lace, but she kept them pressed into a tight line, bitter about what she had been asked to do.

Samael died six months ago, and for those six months, she was happy. People were born, people died, life went on. But the queen of Salem was on the move, and now her Father called her to put a plan into motion, one she dreaded from the moment he told her.

Azrael wanted nothing to do with her fallen brothers, and if He asked her, she would've rather destroyed the little witch now controlling Salem herself, and the whole town with her for that matter. He said no, however, so now she was called to do the unthinkable. Raise a demon to become a savior.

The door of the barn croaked a groan as she opened it with ease, the smell of sweat and dust heavier here than it was in the streets. The filth didn't cling to her as it did the rest of the city, but she still felt the dirt and grime weighing on her.

"This is where he died, Father," she spoke aloud to His presence. "It is not too late to call on another."

 _ **We will give him a chance to redeem himself**_. His voice boomed within her, licking her ribcage with a power that could've killed a mortal woman. _**Do you trust Me?**_

"I trust You." She did, but it still didn't sit right with her.

Azrael rose a gloved hand over the spot where her fallen brother died, her black eyes hidden from behind the veil as she called him forth.

"Ba'al, fallen right hand of Satan, Brother to Samael, and prince of Hell. I revoke your death."

The power of her words weighed heavy in the air as the silence stretched inside the empty forge. There was nothing at first, but after a moment, the first scratching sound of a beetle's legs caught her attention. It poked it's head from the ground and glared with its black eyes, wings fluttering off dust as it crawled from the dirt like a small zombie.

"I call you," she said to the single bug, bored. "You must answer it."

More heads popped from the ground. They tried to scatter, but crashed against Azrael's power, trapped to the spot where the Sentinel died. They outlined where his corpse fell and the more that rose from the grave, the faster it turned into a swarming rolled over and over on top of themselves, hissing and sputtering under her control. She watched as insects still gathered where their master fell, unmoved by their plight as they were pulled from the ground. Thousands of tiny legs and squirming bodies writhed over earth, a black mass in the shape of a fallen angel.

"He let a human do this to him, Father," she murmured. "There must be another you can pull from Hell for your purpose?"

 _ **No.**_ His Voice boomed against her ribcage. _**He is the one. He will deliver not only Salem, but the world.**_

"Pity." She sneered at the swarm of insects. "Awaken brother. Your father wishes to speak with you."

They hissed with the flurry of wings. "Let me die."

 _ **You will not have the privilege.**_ They squirmed at The Voice from within her. Not just any voice. _His_ Voice. _**Beelzebub.**_

The beetles crackled at their name, but didn't respond. She knew they wouldn't yield to him, their Father, the Creator he claimed abandoned him at every turn. How could He possibly control one of His most rebellious children? She didn't want to doubt Him, but seeing the many bodies of her fallen brother was almost enough to make her lose faith.

 _ **You will listen to Me**_.

Cockroaches hissed and flicked their wings against their Father's words.

 _ **Baalim, will you always be such an indignant child? Your brother may be dead but he will return, and I cannot allow you to rest while he's still a threat**_.

They flared as their form was forced into a solid body.

"NO!" they gurgled. "Let us die! GIVE US OUR DEATH"

 _ **You still have yet to learn your lesson, son. Samael was not prepared to love humanity. But you are. Now live.**_

They swarmed against the power of Heaven, but it was no use. He wouldn't let them die. Azrael knew His will when it came to death better than anyone. He was determined to have him.

The freshly formed lips made of beetles and flies swarmed in and out of his new throat. "You do not control this being, you bastard."

 _ **Azrael, give him breath.**_

She didn't move, convinced he'd change his mind. He knew this was a bad idea. Bringing back the dead destroyed the natural order, Lazarus's resurrection alone cost the lives of thousands. What would be the cost of a prince of Hell?

 _ **Azrael.**_

It was the patient tone of a parent, but she could feel His weight. "Yes Father."

She held both hands out as her black eyes glowed from under the veil. She forced flesh together out of the insects, weaving the life of what was once an angel. It was no easy task, especially with how hard he fought her. Ba'al didn't want to exist, but she wouldn't be refused.

"Breathe," she commanded. "Your Father calls you to breathe."

The black writhing mass rolled, pushing itself to its hands and knees as it looked up at her with hate filled gold eyes. "He is not my father," the creature snarled. "He is my captor. A king in which I am his jester, and I grow weary of being a clown!"

Azrael's lips twitched into a smile. "Don't be so dramatic. You sound ridiculous. Now get up."

The mass stood at her command, but still refused to breathe. She stared into his mirrored bug like eyes as his hand jerked to her throat.

"Do you think you can kill death, brother?" She smiled, her thin lips parting as she laughed. "You really are vain."

"Do not bring me back."

She tried to hide her surprise at his tone. It wasn't rage anymore, it was desperation. His gold eyes weren't hate filled, they were pained. Since when was Ba'al, Lord of Flies, a beggar?

She stepped closer, his grip tight on her throat, but not slowing her. Her lips pressed to the insects that formed a mouth and blew deep. Lungs formed around her breath and forced his chest to rise and fall. Azrael stayed close, watching from behind her veil as skin formed through the insects, her lips close to her brother's as he gasped back to life.

"There," she smiled, calm as she pulled his hand from her neck, "was that so bad?"

"You have no idea how horrid this is."

He jerked his arm away from her and stumbled across the dusty forge. Azrael watched in silence, unfeeling at his rage as he overturned a bench with a roar. He was a child throwing a tantrum to her, nothing more than a spoiled brat their Father shouldn't have created in the first place.

"This is the one you plan on using to save the world?" She asked the Voice but was met with silence. "Fine. I suppose if Salem is being run by a whore of Babylon, it seems only fitting to use a demon to save it."

Baalim whipped his head to her, his shimmering eyes filled with fire. "I will not save his precious Salem, or any other part of his pathetic world! I want my death!"

She clasped her hands behind her back, observing him with cold indifference as his eyes fell on a sharp spike laid next to the tools. He sprinted towards it and held it up, ready to throw himself on it before she cut him off.

"You know that would be pointless. Even if a mortal instrument could kill you, I'd only bring you back again."

He froze, his naked human form rigid as they stared at one another. She lifted her chin, waiting on him to make his play only to smile when he hurled the nail down in a rage and collapsed to the ground.

His eyes returned to the pale blue of the human he was pretending to be. "Where is the assassin who killed me?"

"Gone with his lover."

"And the angel blade?"

"The witch, Anne Hale, has it." Azrael shrugged, brushing off a bench to sit as she watched him. "She used it to murder Samael, and now plans on bringing him back so she can be his queen."

"And our," Baalim grinned, but spat his words out, "Father wants me to stop him?"

"No, he wants you to call upon a witch of Heaven to stop her. You will be her chariot."

The fallen angel lifted his head to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. "A witch of Heaven? There can't be such a thing. Only our brother can create witches."

"Who do you think gave him the ability to make pacts with humans?" Azrael smiled again, amused at his stupidity. "Samael gives them powers he twists for evil, but our Father is capable of providing even more riches to humans if an angel is willing to give them."

Baalim sat up and narrowed his eyes. "Who's to say I wouldn't perverse the power as well?"

"Because He's granting you the ability to make contracts," she shrugged, brushing her skirt to hide her displeasure at the situation. "Why he chose you however, I don't know. You're still the insufferable child you've always been."

Baalim looked ahead, silent but she could see him mulling it over. "He wants me to bestow the powers of heaven on a human to kill a witch before she brings Samael back to take over the earth?"

"Yes."

"What do I get out of it?"

"A favor."

Baalim jerked his head to her, shock clear on his face. "A favor? From the Holiest of Holies? No questions asked?"

"No questions asked."

It was a stupid plan. She could see exactly what he wanted, not that she needed to read his face in the first place. He was always open about getting their brothers and sisters from Hell. Why bring him back to defeat Samael when he would just destroy the world himself?

She looked up as he stood, her empty eyes oblivious to his naked body.

"I will do it," he said with a cold smile, "but not alone. I need my guide."

Azrael rose her eyebrows, even though he couldn't see her expression. "A guide?"

"He was teaching me how to blend in. How to be human. I cannot defeat my brother unless I know how to hide among humans."

She waited for the Voice to tell him no, but when nothing came, Azrael nodded. "It's permitted. Name your guide."

His pale eyes flashed gold as her brother stared with cold detachment. "Cotton Mather."

 _I have a lot of problems with the television show, Salem. Not only was it grossly historically inaccurate, had a boring protagonist, but it was very inconsistent with its plot and just what witches could do._

 _That being said, after The Sentinel (Beelzebub/Ba'al/Baalim) came in on Season 3, I was much more interested. Fallen angels have always been intriguing to me, like they are to everyone, and I wanted more of him. Now that it's canceled, I'm writing my own ending for the town of Salem._

 _So here's the disclaimer. This is going to stick with the theme of the show. It's going to be historically inaccurate, I'm taking the same creative liberties with traditional witchcraft/American folk magic, I'm having my way with the characters the show Salem's given me, and yes, it will have all the dark raunchiness of the show._

 _That being said, I won't be adding any other people from history so I won't be butchering things anymore than the original creators already have. I'll also try to include historical facts at the end of my chapters to counter how horribly inaccurate it'll inevitably be._

 _Also all my MC's will be canon (with the exception of Azrael who gets the prologue and epilogue). I'm not sure why this is important but I felt like mentioning it._

 _Hope you enjoy!_


End file.
